


6 o'clock

by mmmuse



Series: One Night [3]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, a smidgen of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4929373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmuse/pseuds/mmmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Their wedding night had been one of delight and new discovery." <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4548771">Pride Goeth Before the Fall</a>. Finale of the One Night series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	6 o'clock

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I've written this, having all of my previous writings in mind whilst doing so. [Three Weeks](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4665447) sets the stage, and we're at our final chapter of our characters' explorations into marital intimacy. 
> 
> It's been a challenge to delve back into writing erotica, but I imagine their lives to be filled with passion and desire, so that's where the creativity train took me. I thank all of you who have given me kudos and comments to support my work. I am always looking for ways to improve, so please feel free to share your comments. 
> 
> Finally, to my lovely beta, Sherylyn, for her assistance in helping me get this ready for you! She'd never watched the show or read the books before I roped her into beta reading for me, and she's been a serious trooper!
> 
> Dawn has come to Nampara. It's 6 o'clock and time for Ross and Demelza to return to their ordinary, day-to-day lives as newlyweds. The transition from master and servant to man and wife will be a challenging one for both of them.

The 25th of June, 1787 dawned sunny and bright against the Cornish countryside. The sun’s brilliant light shone through the window over the desk in the Nampara master chamber, spreading through the room and across the two figures under the bedclothes in the four-poster bed. Demelza’s eyes flickered open in response to the sunlight, rousing her from her sleep. She was naturally an early riser, and it was something she’d done since her arrival at Nampara. And while her usual habit would have been to spring from her bed and start the day with one of her foraging rambles, this particular morning found her wishing to burrow deeper into the covers and relax against the warmth of her husband’s body.

After they’d had their second picnic in bed, Ross had been true to his word: he’d kept her warm, doing a much better job of sharing the bedcovers. She’d slept deeply through the rest of the night, a dreamless sleep that left her feeling more rested than she’d anticipated, given its brevity. She thought it must be around 6 o’clock, but knew she’d need to become familiar with how the light played in this room throughout the day to know for certain.

She blinked sleepily. She was once again spooned in Ross’s embrace. She lay quietly for several moments, savouring each of them as the morning’s awareness stole over her body and mind. She felt the even rise and fall of his chest against her back, his left arm wrapped around her waist, and his hand resting on her breast. Her head lay against the muscular bicep of his right arm. She glanced down its length to his hand, relaxed in sleep, its palm facing up towards the ceiling, the long fingers slightly curled towards his calloused palm.

She loved to look at his hands, and knew them almost as well as her own. She had observed that he liked to slide Darkie’s reins in between his ring and little fingers. She noticed the small callous he had on the inside of his middle finger from where the pencil would sit when he held it to write. She’d seen how his index finger would ride the rim of his glass before he took a sip of its contents. And – as she cast her gaze down – she noticed how he liked to run his thumb along her nipple as he slept, and it made her toes curl.

She also liked lying in their present position the best. She loved the warmth of his broad chest against her back, the feel of his hips and legs snuggled tightly against the backs of her own, the way the crisp hairs of his thighs teased and tickled her own thighs, now freed from their stockings, the heat from his groin warming her bum. The only thing she didn’t like about this position was that it kept her from being able to see his face. Ross’s face in repose was a revelation, an experience she now recognized as one of the rights and privileges she held as his wife. She’d only caught a glimpse of it in daylight the morning after their first time together. Now she wanted to make a closer study while she had the chance.

Carefully, she began to turn over onto her back, doing her very best not to wake him. He sighed a little and she froze, waiting until his breathing evened out once again before resuming her movements. She finally managed to turn onto her left side and found herself within inches of his sleeping countenance.

The long, curling strands of his dark hair formed a tangled cloud around his head. The sun lit up the strands of copper that flecked his hair and made translucent the tip of his left ear. Long, thick black lashes lay against his cheeks, shielding his eyes from her view. The scar – brutal, unavoidable, striking and handsome – lay in stark relief against the cheek’s skin and stubble. _He had come so very close to losing his eye_ , she thought to herself. It would have been a tragedy for his eyes were windows into his mind. Sometimes they were easy to read, particularly if his emotions were high. At other times, they were shielded and indeterminable. His brows, so expressive with his moods, lay relaxed and trouble-free. A long, straight nose, full, sensuous lips which she found herself staring at with longing at inopportune moments, and the strong chin she loved to trace with her finger finished out the tableau of appreciation in front of her.

Strong, brooding, passionate, beautiful. Demelza could scarcely believe he was hers. The three weeks they’d waited had been unbearable. Had she known then what she knew now, it would have been worse than unbearable: it would have been _impossible_. And everything she now knew filled the depths of the love she’d held for him to a point where she’d begun to question, albeit belatedly, the decision she’d made three weeks prior: _could_ she truly be content in this love she carried for him, knowing that his heart held another? While she was young and inexperienced, she was not a fool. She knew that what had passed between them over the last sixteen hours – while wonderful…any woman’s dream come true – had been driven from his desire and hunger for her, not love. She knew the only way she could manage it was if she did all she could to guard her heart, to rest in the knowledge that he was pledged to her and her alone until death parted them.

Blinking away the sudden moisture that had come to her eyes, she turned to face away from him, to start to build up the battlements to protect her heart, and made to slip out from the covers when his arm tightened around her waist and drew her back against him.

“Hmmmmmm,” Ross murmured sleepily against the nape of her neck, his nose and lips nuzzling her skin. “Where’re you going?”

The vibrations against her skin made her shiver. “R-ross,” she sighed and felt his hand tighten on her breast. “It’s time to get up.”

“No, not yet,” he protested. She could feel him shake his head against her neck and it made her smile. His hand shifted downward to her hips. He rocked his hips forward and she felt the burning heat of his erect cock nestled in the cleft of her buttocks.

The battlements crashed to earth.

“R-ross!” she gasped. She pressed her hips back against him in response and was rewarded with another groan and insistent, biting kisses along her shoulders and neck. His left hand clamped tight against her hips to hold hers still while he thrust against her backside. She felt as if her heart had moved into her groin, the pounding of the pulse so strong between her legs. Her sex, grown swollen and aching, wept for him now.

“I want you, Demelza,” he groaned in her ear. She felt his hand shift her left leg closer to her chest. He repositioned himself so that his cock slid between the lips of her sex to thrust against the bud at her centre. Tiny bursts of light formed behind her closed lids. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She shook her head frantically, disoriented as to what was happening – one more way for them to come together – but wanting it just the same. “I’m all right, Ross, really I am.” She pulled his hand from her hip, drawing it down to her moist heat, moaning when his fingers slipped in to find her swollen bud. She felt him caress her with his hand and his cock at the same time and nearly wept with joy.

“Oh God,” Ross groaned. He moved his hand from her sex and brought it around to guide his cock to the entrance of her body. He surged forward, easing the tip of his cock into her. Demelza flinched slightly; she was still tender, but her need to have him fill her overrode any concerns she may have had.

He stopped. “Is it too much?” he asked, his voice a dark, rasping whisper in her ear.

“No, Ross, please,” she begged, her hand reaching back to clasp his hip, to pull him closer. The feel of him, filling her body from behind, made her breathless with longing.

“The heat, Demelza, so hot,” he all but crooned in her ear and pressed forward, inching more and more of himself into her body until he was fully seated within her. Her sex clenched tight around him. She arched her back, pressing her hips against him, a moaning sob leaving her throat. He froze. “It _is_ too muc—”

“—N-no, dear Ross,” she interrupted, before twisting her head back to look into his eyes. They were black with need and her body clasped his once more in response. “Please!” she pleaded, pressing back against him again, digging the nails of her hand into his hip to pull him even closer against her.

“Tell me, please,” he gasped, the hand on her breast squeezing rhythmically, his cock barely moving in time within her.

Demelza’s brain scrabbled for words. Not the ones that her heart begged her to say: I love you; I’ve always loved you. Even now, with all her senses subsumed by him, she forced her mind away from what she longed to say, and gave him what she felt he needed. “I’m filled with you, Ross.” He began thrusting within her in earnest as she continued. “It’s grand, feeling you move inside me.” The feelings swelled within her, making it hard to breathe. “Like you were made for me.”

“God, Demelza,” he groaned again, thrusting harder within her as his hand drifted back to find her bud. His teeth bit the back of her neck before his tongue bathed the spot. He stroked her, and Demelza uttered gasping moans in a voice she’d never heard come from her throat before. This position felt primal, filling a part of her mind she’d not known she’d possessed. She released his hip, moving her hand to join his at her centre, nudging his aside to take over the stroking. Ross growled and trembled against her. His hand clamped on her hip, holding her still, thrusting harder and deeper into her body.

Demelza was panting with need, her fingers slick with her body’s dew. She slid them further into the folds of her sex until she touched the thickness of his cock as it slid in and out. “R-ross!” she groaned as her climax swelled within her. She shuddered with the strength of her release, breathy, gasping cries escaping her throat.

He slid from her body suddenly, flinging the bedclothes off their bodies and rose up onto his right forearm. Demelza felt the cool morning slip around her body as he shifted her onto her back. He slid in between her thighs and re-entered her with a moan of relief, pressing her into the mattress with his thrusts. “Demelza, I crave the feel of your body gripping me when you come,” he rasped into her ear before capturing her lips with his in a trembling kiss. He broke away from their kiss to rise up, supporting his upper body with the strength of his left arm while he brought her right leg up and over his shoulder.

Still thrumming from her release, Demelza’s eyes grew wide over this new position. She felt bereft of his weight upon her body at one moment, only to gasp aloud with the depth of his penetration the next. Her movements were constrained in this position, but the restriction merely fed the loss of control she sometimes sensed with their lovemaking. Earth shifting, head spinning, nowhere to go, nothing to do but to trust and hold onto him as the pleasure built. The blood rushed through her veins to heat her skin. Her hands slipped up his sides to stroke his back and chest, damp with sweat. Her fingers brushed one of his nipples and found it diamond hard under her touch. She pinched it, as he’d done to hers, and was rewarded with a shuddering gasp.

“Demelza, I feel as if I could touch your womb,” he moaned, his thrusts deepening, growing more frantic. She knew he was nearing his end and it spurred on her own. “So tight...never get enough of you.”

The flush began to rise up the skin of her chest, to her neck and finally her cheeks, the tension building to its peak before she shattered with her climax. She felt the walls of her body clench tightly against his cock as wave after wave of pleasure wrung sobs from her throat. He shouted and she felt him thrust deep one last time before he succumbed to his orgasm, continuing to flex his hips against hers as he poured his seed into her.

He shifted his right arm to allow Demelza’s leg to slip from his shoulder to fall weakly onto the bed before collapsing on top of her, pressing her once again into the mattress ticking. Demelza clasped her arms around him, feeling the slick skin of his back against her palms. She pressed kisses along his neck, her tongue tasting the sweat of his skin, and nibbled on his chin before he tipped his head down to take her mouth with his. The kiss was desperate, filled with passion and need, even now after such satisfaction. Demelza found the strength to bring her legs around his waist to hug him to her, not wishing for the moment to end. She could, however, feel him softening within her. Giving him one last squeezing embrace with her arms and legs, she relaxed enough for him to slide to her left side, where he gathered her against his chest.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They lay quiet for several moments: their heartbeats slowly returning to normal and their breathing gentling. Ross pressed a kiss to Demelza’s forehead before he leaned back, stroking the hair from her face to look into her eyes. “Good morning, wife,” he said, his voice sleepy and sonorous. He felt her shiver in his arms and smiled.

“Good morning, husband,” she said, blinking up shyly at him. “Did you sleep well, Ross?”

Oh, how he loved the way she said his name after they made love. “I certainly did, my dear.” He smiled, lifting one hand to rub the stubble on his cheek and chin and made a mental note to shave before bed in future. He returned his hand to her waist. “And you?”

“I did, thank you,” she said, running her hand across his chest. He liked the sound the crisp chest hairs made against her hand. He yawned hugely, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “But it’s time to get up, Ross.”

He opened his eyes and found hers looking up at him, more serious than he’d anticipated they’d be, given what they’d been up to for the past several moments. Grumbling in protest, he released her waist and reached for the bedclothes, doing his best to pull them back up and over their bodies.

She pressed her hand against his chest. “What time are Jud and Prudy due back at Nampara, Ross?”

He stopped tugging at the blankets. “At 9 o’clock.” He arched a look down at his new wife. Damned if he needed her to be the voice of reason in this moment, but he figured someone needed to be, if for no other reason than that their island of seclusion would soon be invaded. He glanced at the window and conceded defeat and collapsed back onto the pillow. “It’s almost 7 o’clock now.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Ross. I need to get used to how light plays in here to tell for sure.”

“It will come with time, my dear.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. She gave him a small squeeze and slipped from his embrace. He frowned, for he’d hoped for just a few moments longer with her in his arms before rising, but shook the thought from his mind. He had much to accomplish this day as well.

He swung his legs out of bed and rose to his feet, stretching and giving his left buttock a small scratch in the process. “I am heading into Truro today before going to the mine this afternoon.” He slipped on his breeches and braces before he turned to face her on the other side of the bed. She’d put her shift back on and was moving about the room, picking up articles of her clothing off the floor.

“I’ll put the kettle on and get breakfast started,” she said, absently, looking for one of her shoes near the fireplace.

He walked over to where she stood, the missing shoe held triumphantly in her hand, and placed his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened slightly, which made his brow furrow. “Let me get the water,” he said, softly.

“Thank you, Ross,” she said with a smile. It wasn’t the smile of the seductress he’d been with all night but the one of the friend and companion of yore. His furrow deepened.

He took the clothes out of her arms and placed them in the armchair. He took her in his arms, drawing her into a kiss that lit fires all along his body. He felt her hands slip along his waist to rest against the middle of his back. He deepened the kiss for a moment before lifting his head to look into her eyes. They were stormy and the colour of jade: the eyes of the siren once again, and it settled some of the unease that had formed in his belly. “Thank you, Demelza, for an unbelievable wedding night.”

She blushed, rubbing her hands on his back and down to his waist. “Thank you, Ross. I’ll never forget it, truly.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss on his jaw before stepping from his embrace, picking up the clothes and padding to the door. She turned once, smiled shyly, and left the room.

Ross frowned, rubbing his hand across his cheek and chin once again. Was it something he’d said? Something he’d done? He shook his head slightly before he sat down to pull on his boots and pick up the small washbasin from the desk before heading out of the room.

He heard her in her room as he made his way to the stairs and made another mental note to clear out some space for her to move her belongings into the master bedchamber today. It reminded him of a host of other things they would need to discuss. They’d both been so focused on getting _to_ the wedding day itself that they hadn’t really discussed what would happen _after_ the wedding day, aside from the obvious. And they’d accomplished that quite well. But they still needed to determine what would comprise her role as mistress of Nampara would encompass. What were his expectations? What were hers? How would their lives need to change now that they were man and wife and no longer master and servant? He figured they could spend some time discussing that before he had to leave so she would feel more comfortable after Jud and Prudy returned.

 _And after the Paynters returned?_ he mused as he paused at the kitchen door near the water pails, remembering all that had happened there in the night. How would they need to conduct themselves with their live-in servants, such as they were? The last several hours would remain an oasis of privacy and seclusion, one they would not be able to revisit again for some time, if ever, and the prospect made him morose.

He set down the small basin on the table, a frown creasing his brow. He looked around the room. The large washbasin was still next to the table, the bath linen and flannel lying where they’d been abandoned during their intimacies the night before. He unbolted the kitchen door and returned to pick up the basin to empty it. There was no need for her to be embarrassed or uncomfortable by finding it. Once done, he tucked the linens into the laundry basket by the foot of the stairs before gathering the pails and stalking out into the yard.

He gathered water for the animals before proceeding to the barn. He checked on the animals, filled their troughs and picked up his waistcoat and jacket. He remembered hastily stripping off both articles of clothing yesterday afternoon, although he didn’t think the word “hastily” truly captured the desperation that had coursed through his veins at that particular moment. He paused for a second, ruefully acknowledging the fact that simply remembering the act of removing the waistcoat and jacket had made him as hard as iron, and cursed under his breath. The need and desire thrumming through his veins just from picking up his bloody clothing was enough to keep him thoroughly distracted from everything he had to accomplish that day.

He ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair. _How will I manage it?_ he wondered to himself. _I can’t conduct business in Truro if all I am thinking about is how her skin tastes. I can’t very well spend any time down the mine shaft, potentially risking the lives of myself and my men, if I can’t stop thinking about how she feels under me when I come, now can I?_ _Perhaps the effort she was making to pull back from me earlier is the right thing to do._ After all, seeing a glimpse of the Demelza of old standing near naked and thoroughly ravaged mere moments before, smiling up at him with her hands full of laundry, was discombobulating enough.

He picked up the pails, paused, and then set them and his clothing down before sticking his head under the pump water for a solid fifteen seconds. The cold water was bracing and did its work in clearing his head. He shook himself like Garrick before shrugging into the clothes, filling the pails and returning to the house.

He found her, dressed in one of her work dresses, tending the fire she’d started while he was outside. She turned and smiled at him. Her hair was a riot of tangles that she’d tied up and away from the back of her neck with a scrap of green material. He noticed how the colour complimented her hair, before chastising himself back into focus. “Here’s the water, Demelza,” he said somewhat gruffly. _Get a hold of yourself, Poldark._

“Thank ye, Ross,” she said, taking one of the pails and pouring it into the large kettle on the hearth. “It’ll be hot in no time.” She motioned towards the table without looking. “I’ve put out the last of the cheese and some nuts for now, but will put together something to better break your fast shortly.”

Ross looked at the bench seat and had to count to ten to clear images of her on her knees in front of him, her mouth filled with his cock, from his memories. _Get on with the business at hand, man!_ “The cheese and nuts will be fine, Demelza. Can I ask you to sit with me for a moment while we wait for the water, my dear?” He gestured to the seat across from him. She blinked and blushed up to the roots of her hair before she sat down. _She’s having the same problem as I am!_ he thought to himself. That, more than anything, helped calm the beating of his heart. He reached for some cheese, offering her part of the slice and they chewed companionably for a moment. He filled two glasses with some cider and handed her one before taking a sip of his own. “Demelza, I thought we should talk about what happens next.”

She blinked at him once again. “Next, Ross?” she asked, her eyes wary.

“Well,” he started, “we haven’t discussed what it means to be mistress of a home like this, so I thought it would be a good idea to talk about it.”

She exhaled and smiled brightly and it made him breathe easier. “Oh Ross, I was just thinking about that when I woke up this morning.”

“Excellent,” he said with a nod, popping some walnuts into his mouth. “Tell me what your expectations are for what a lady would do in a home like this.”

She furrowed her brow in thought, biting her bottom lip absentmindedly. His hand gripped the bench seat next to him. “Well, Ross, when I think of what a lady would do in a home like this, I imagine she’d be sipping tea and doing needlepoint most of the day.” She glanced up at him. “I wouldn’t mind doing that sometimes, but I think I’d get too bored.”

He smiled. “Well, if that is something you would like to do, it’s certainly appropriate. But I know you’ve more energy than that.” He paused and reached across the table, extending his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and he brushed his thumb across the back of it. “Tell me, what are some of the things you like to do here now?”

She glanced out the window for a moment before returning his gaze. “You know I like to cook for you, Ross. It makes me happy to know you enjoy my cooking.”

“I do indeed, Demelza,” he said truthfully.

“And I like cleaning and tidying the house,” she said. “It’s relaxing and gives me time to think.”

“You are welcome to continue to do these things, my dear,” he said with a grin. “Particularly if they make you happy and give you pleasure.” Her eyes sparkled at him, and he caught a glimpse of the siren for a moment. He frowned. “Is there anything you do _not_ like to do?”

“The laundry,” she said, crinkling her nose. She bit her bottom lip again.

He restrained himself from rising to his feet, hauling her over the table and kissing them both senseless. He cleared his throat. “All right then, Prudy will assume responsibility for tending to the laundry – which should have been one of her responsibilities in the first place, Demelza – and tending to the small livestock. The goats and pigs and the like.”

“And the chickens, Ross?” she offered.

Ross laughed. The hopefulness in her voice had been clearly noticeable: she hated the chickens. “Of course, the chickens as well.” He paused for a moment. “As mistress of Nampara, you are responsible for the running of the household, including conserving our existing furnishings and maintaining a budget. I shall tell you how much we have for such matters once a week.” He saw another furrow mar her brow. “I realize you are still working on learning your letters and numbers. I shall help you with this until you feel you are able to do this on your own. Is that acceptable, my dear?” She nodded enthusiastically before he continued. “You have authority over all servants as well. And while we only have Jud and Prudy with us at present, should our fortunes improve with the mine, there could be a need for additional assistance. You will be responsible for finding and managing any additional serving help. Now, I will tend to Jud personally, although you will tell me if he does or says anything to disrespect you when I am not here to witness it. Is that clear?” She nodded. “You tend to Prudy. Do you feel you can do this?”

She frowned. “Ross, yesterday was the first time she’d ever called me by first name in all the time I’ve been here. What makes you think she’ll mind me?”

“The bargain they _both_ made when we announced our intentions to marry still apply, Demelza,” he said, his hand clasping hers tightly. “Yes, Prudy will mind you, even if it requires I plant my boot in her arse,” he muttered. Demelza laughed brightly and it cheered him immeasurably. He gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it to pick up another slice of cheese.

 “Ross, may I ask you a question?” Demelza said, the laughter sliding from her voice.

“Of course, my dear.”

“Yesterday, when Prudy helped me dress,” she started, and then looked down at the plate of food between them. He reached across to touch her hand once again. She looked up at him. “That was your doing, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. “It was past time she understand her place here with you. Did she serve you well?”

“She did, Ross,” she said. She looked into his eyes, and their changing colours shook him as they darkened. “Thank you for that. I hadn’t had a chance to ask you. It was appreciated.”

The siren’s smile quickened his pulse and made his loins tighten uncomfortably. “You are welcome, my dear,” he said thickly, reaching for his glass of cider. “I will go over these new expectations with the Paynters before I leave for Truro.” He took a sip and arched a brow at her. “I will leave it to you to figure out the best way to manage them going forward, but you are to tell me if things do not improve. Are we understood?”

She nodded. “Yes, Ross.”

It was his turn to nod. He rose from the table and picked up the washbasin and set it on the table. Demelza rose and retrieved the kettle, pouring a quantity into the basin and adding a bit of cold water to bring it to temperature. He went to pick it up before he paused, and gave her a soft kiss. “I will make space in the wardrobe for your things while I am upstairs, Demelza.” He looked at her. “Please make yourself at home there.”

She nodded. “I will, Ross,” she murmured, slipping her hand between the unbuttoned plackets of his jacket and waistcoat to rest on his naked chest and kissing him lightly on the lips. He slipped his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss as he felt her hands brush over his nipples and was swamped with desire for her once more. He broke the kiss reluctantly, gazing into her hooded eyes before he picked up the basin and turned for the stairs.

~*~*~*~*~*~**~

Demelza watched him climb the stairs, the nerves along her skin still tingling from their kiss before turning to start their tea and breakfast. She was very glad to have more clarity on what she was to do each day and nearly vibrated with excitement over all of her new duties. She already had ideas for how to brighten things up around Nampara and would develop a plan to share with him over the coming days. She was particularly excited to learn more about her numbers and sums and was determined to make her new husband proud in the doing.

If there was an area of concern it was the situation with the Paynters. Demelza admitted she was worried she would not be able to rely on Prudy to do everything she was asked to do. It was a concern she’d put far back into the corner of her mind from the time Ross had informed the Paynters of his intention to marry Demelza in the first place. _No more putting it off now_ , she thought to herself, wondering how the older woman would respond to being given directions from someone who she’d considered her inferior for so many years. She would cross that bridge when she got to it, and she suspected she would get to it sooner rather than later.

One thing she’d noticed about Ross’s demeanour was that he had been almost business-like in his conversation about her role and she admitted it had helped to calm her nerves considerably. She had experienced a jolt of memories assailing her when she walked into the kitchen, only to blush when she discovered he’d begun to tidy up the room, emptying the basin and hiding the linens. Just thinking about it brought back images of what they’d done in there, how the space had been changed by it. By the time he’d come back in from the pump she’d been unable to meet his gaze.

The other thing she’d noticed about his demeanour was that it was very similar to the way they’d interacted with one another before they’d become intimate. Oh, she’d seen occasional fires of hunger in his eyes, like when he’d seen her in the kitchen, looking at her hair, or when she’d thanked him for making Prudy behave. It had been a little difficult looking at him and not being distracted by the glimpses she’d caught of his naked chest through the open plackets of his jacket and waistcoat.

She shook her head and started putting together some scones. _Focus, Demelza,_ she thought to herself. _If Ross could manage to keep his wits about him, so can I. Besides, I’ll need to._

The building of battlements began again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was nearing a quarter after eight when Ross re-entered the kitchen. The smell of fresh scones had wafted up the stairs and set his stomach to growling. He had taken care with his bath this morning, shaving and dressing as much for Demelza as for the trip into town. She turned at the sound of his boot heels on the flagstone floor and smiled at him. She’d also taken some time to freshen herself, managing to corral her hair into a more orderly mass of curls atop her head and was wearing the other of her new morning dresses. This one was a pretty yellow and fitted her beautifully.

“You look very pretty, my dear,” Ross said, setting his saddlebag down on the bench and raising his thumb to dust the flour that adorned her cheek before kissing the spot he’d just cleaned.

She flapped a hand at him. “Thank you, Ross. I’ve tea and scones for your breakfast.” She looked at the saddlebag. “A meeting with your investors?”

He sat down and took a sip of tea. “No, with Horace Pasco, my banker. I’ve some business that needs attending.” He was changing his will, truth be told, to leave everything to her and their issue, but she need not know the details. “I will head straight to the mine after that, so I will not be home until late.”

She paused. “How late might you be?”

He took a bite of scone and found it to be as delicious as always. “Around eight, I imagine.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Why?”

She turned to face him, smiling. “Oh,” she said, “just want to know when I should start supper, ‘tis all, Ross.”

“Will you join me for breakfast?” he asked. Something was amiss and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“All right, Ross.” She sat down across from him and poured herself some tea. They ate and chatted about his plans at the mine for the day until she rose to clear away the dishes. “Shall I wait with you until Jud and Prudy have returned, or could I slip out for a walk? I’m missed my morning ramble through the hillside for flowers today.”

Ross blinked at her, thoroughly baffled. She was perfectly pleasant, her usual self. Which was the problem. She was the Demelza of his waking hours, friendly, efficient in her tasks, companionable in conversation. “I will be happy to speak with the Paynters when they arrive, but would prefer it if you could return earlier than your usual. I want to go over Prudy’s responsibilities with her and it would be best if you were present as well.”

She nodded. “I understand, Ross. I’ll not go farther than the lower meadow so’s I’ll see them as they come up across the creek.” She picked up her basket and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “I’ll be back soon. Thank you, Ross.”

She was gone before he could get her name past his lips. He stared at the scone, half-finished on the dish in front of him and found his appetite was gone. As was she.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A little unsettling, isn't it? I believe I have finished this series, but I may have to delve back into the world of Romelza to try to figure out how these two crazy kids can finally get it together. Stay tuned... there's always something rattling around in my head with these two!
> 
> EDITED 12/14/2016: And so I did! The story continues with [Six Months: Journey to Love](http://archiveofourown.org/series/340453). Enjoy!
> 
> Thanks again and please let me know what you think!


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